Arabesk

'This Temiz is, I assume, very frightened.'

'Yes. He speaks, when he does, in sort of harsh monosyllables and wets himself. It doesn't help either that his lawyer is Sevan Avedykian. When he's with him he won't let Cengiz answer any questions anyway.'

Ìkmen tipped his tiny cup up to his lips and sipped the hot liquid. 'That's his job,' he said, and then pausing for a moment's thought he added, 'Have you thought about engaging Dr Halman to help you?'

‘I have.' His face took on a dejected expression here. It was a pose that, Ìkmen thought, looked particularly miserable. 'But she was called out to Temizlast night while I was in Karaköy. She found him in a terrible state. She went berserk at me when I arrived – lots of stuff about the evils of the Turkish judicial system. She says that if the family make a complaint she will support it. I can expect her report on my desk at any time.'

'Ah.' And then speaking with his eyes turned away from Suleyman, Ìkmen said, 'That must have been quite hard for you in view of the fact that you and Dr Halman-'

'Our private lives must be walled,' Suleyman said, his eyes suddenly hard as he repeated the old Ottoman adage.

'Yes, but if you will continue to find the women you work with irresistible then those walls are going to contain windows,' Ìkmen replied with some passion. 'You only just got away with it with Sergeant Farsakoglu. I suppose with Dr Halman being half foreign it is a little better – not that Zelfa isn't a wonderful lady. She makes me laugh at least. But…'

‘I think the doctor will probably return to Ireland quite soon,' Suleyman said as he dismally looked into his cup. 'She certainly gave me that impression last night'

'She probably wanted to shock you,' Ìkmen said. 'She can't exactly leave that old father of hers, can she? And anyway, she'd never find someone like you back in Dublin.'

'Can we drop this subject now, please, sir, er, Çetin?'

Ìkmen shrugged and then, leaning forward across the table, he said, 'So what about Erol Urfa and this secret wife of his? A bit convenient that she's now dead, given his obvious preference for Tansu Hanim.'

Suleyman took a cigarette out of his packet and lit up. Tm seeing Urfa this morning.' 'And?'

'And I must confess that I find the whole situation totally confusing. Tansu, Erol's manager and, seemingly, the whole Arabesk community knew about Ruya and the baby. They made no secret of it. Erol's prints as well as those of Cengiz Temiz have been found in the vicinity of the body although, unlike those of Temiz, not on the corpse. But Erol, it would seem, had the most compelling motive to do away with a woman foisted onto him by his relatives. Strangely, he seems to really love Tansu, or so Çöktin feels.'

'Çöktin?'

'He stayed with Urfa after the broadcast last night' Registering the look of concern on Ìkmen's face, he added, 'I'm not happy about it Both Urfa and Tansu are Kurdish, as is Çöktin. There's already talk that the sergeant is taking rather more than just a professional interest'

'Well, you know what you have to do,' Ìkmen said. 'Yes.'

As if by some sort of sorcery, the music that one of the waiters put onto the restaurant tape machine was 'May It Pass’ sung by Tansu Hanim. It was, Ìkmen noted to himself, one of her 'pitying' numbers. Melancholy and slow, it was in sharp contrast to the more bitter songs which, he'd noticed from the sleeves of his wife's tapes, were the ones she appeared to have written herself. Not that she put a great deal of vocal venom into these numbers for, like this one now, her interpretation of whoever's work she was singing was uniformly sad.

It seemed apt, at this point, to throw Tansu into the cooking pot of impressions along with everyone else. 'Tansu Hanim had considerable motive too,' he said.

'Yes.'

'Perhaps she is Cengiz Temiz's demon woman. You should show him a photograph of her.' He smiled. 'She doesn't exactly have a reputation for being sweet and kind.'

'No, although she possesses an alibi for that evening. Her sister-'

'A relative's about as reliable as a politician in this context!' Ìkmen blustered. ‘I know you've been preoccupied with the missing child, but – you should ask the servants if you want the truth! Get on to it!'

Suleyman, thoroughly chastised, put his head down. 'Mmm.'

Ìkmen, wisely, changed tack. 'Are you still waiting for any more forensics?'

'Yes. I should have the results later on today. Some fibres require analysis and Dr Sarkissian still has some samples to take before the body can be released for burial. If we get any more forensic evidence on Cengiz Temiz we won't need him to speak,' Suleyman sand miserably.

'I take it you don't hold with the idea that Mr Temiz killed Ruya Urfa.'

'Not really, no. I do think he is involved in some way. In fact I think that he may be the key to this whole affair. But actually killing? No.' He looked out across the two great sparkling waterways, the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus. 'The cyanide, which let's face it is not easy to come by, was administered in a sweet that the murderer knew would disguise the smell of the poison. It all happened at a time when, I believe, the perpetrator knew most people would be in front of the television. It's all too clever and complex, I believe, for Cengiz.'

'It may be,' Ìkmen said as he placed a large bundle of banknotes onto the bill that had, somehow, during the course of their conversation, landed on the table. 'But you'll have to ask Zelfa about that, I feel. Only a professional can really make that sort.of judgement.'

Suleyman sighed. 'I know.' Then looking down at his watch he said, 'I must go.'

'Yes.'

As he retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair, Suleyman said, "Thank you for my breakfast, Çöktin. I do feel a little better now.'

'Good.' He stood up. 'So can I send Cohen and some boys out to the iskender Hamam then, Inspector?'

'Yes. Get it done.' Then frowning as he stood, he added, 'I wonder what motive Madame Kleopatra had for killing her husband?'

'We'll never know now,' Ìkmen replied. 'Perhaps he abused her. Maybe he was unfaithful. The motive could have been monetary, racial, religious, almost anything. But they're both dead now and so…'

'You know,' Suleyman said as he walked towards the steps of the balcony and out into the street, 'in a sense I know as little about Ruya Urfa as you do about Madame's husband.'

Ìkmen, now out in the full sunlight and sweating profusely, said, 'Yes; well, Mr Kleopatra, as some used to refer to him, was a bit of a cipher, I suppose. I am not alone in never having met him. There were even some who believed he didn't exist.'

'Mmm.' Suleyman put his sunglasses on. 'A man of nowhere.'

It was strange to see the large bulk of Commissioner Ardiç, doing anything physical for anyone other than himself, much less a very young-looking man. But as Mr Kemal Ertürk left the building, Ardiç, held the door open in order to expedite his exit. It was only when he turned away from his guest and looked at what was now cluttering up his station that he scowled.

'What is all this about?' he said to no one in particular, his arms attempting but failing to encompass the sheer scale of the invasion of red roses.

Çöktin, who had observed the arrival of the flowers some minutes before, said, 'They're a gift from Mr Urfa, to say thank you for finding his daughter.'

'Oh,' Ardiç said, suddenly and quite alarmingly, to those who really knew him, becalmed. 'And are they for all of us, Sergeant Çöktin?’

'No, sir, just for Inspector Suleyman.'

'Oh, really.' The large man walked across to one of the bigger displays and helped himself to the card that nestled amongst the blossoms. 'How very thoughtful,' he said, 'but also,' and here his tone resolved into something much more familiar to his colleagues, 'how fucking embarrassing! Get rid of them!'

Officer Kavur, who had been sniffing the plants appreciatively, said, 'Oh, but-’

'Am I,' Ardiç said as he dramatically cast about the reception area like a particularly bad actor, 'invisible to you people?'